


Love Loop

by jezza



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Bars, Be patient for the ships this starts very friendship heavy, Chance Meetings, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Mentions of the rest of skz, No vespas were harmed in the making of this fic, Persimmons are the best fruit, Seungbin are goals, Supermarkets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-08-10 22:48:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20143261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jezza/pseuds/jezza
Summary: Jisung stumbles across what might be his perfect confidant.Seungmin finds the friend he never knew he needed.Minho is bowled over by someone who just might change his life.Changbin is caught in the middle of a perfect storm.Four lives. One loop.





	1. Jisung

**Author's Note:**

> Hello welcome aboard the trash cruise 
> 
> Title is from Got7's song of the same name which I would wholeheartedly recommend if you haven't already listened to it

Jisung lets his head fall forward onto the bar, hair sticking to lingering spills of long since drunk beers. It makes more of a thump than he expects it to – so much so that the guy sitting two chairs to his right lets out what has the be the ugliest snort he’s ever heard.

“One of those days, huh?” the guy asks, taking a swig of his cocktail, spinning the little paper umbrella between his fingers.

Jisung narrows his eyes, taking in the dainty cross of the guy’s legs to the glare he has steadfastly fixed in place despite the affable tone of his words.

_Flirting it is_.

“You could say that,” he smirks, “but it’s looking a little better now.”

The dude scoffs. “Mate, don’t even try.”

“Oh,” Jisung pouts. Sometimes he forgets that _straight_ is a thing.

“Huh? No, I just have a boyfriend.”

_Whoops_. Jisung certainly didn’t mean to say that out loud, and while this guy certainly seems not to care, he’s getting a little bit of side eye from the bartender.

It seems his newfound friend notices too, because he lets out another little snort, rolls his eyes, and shifts over onto the seat next to Jisung.

“I’m Changbin,” he says, extending a hand for Jisung to shake.

“Jisung.”

“Here to find a hook up, or something?”

Jisung grimaces. “No, actually, despite what it looks like. I don’t really know why I tried to hit on you. Sorry.”

Changbin has the grace to laugh. “Yeah, something tells me we wouldn’t be each other’s type.”

“Mm, maybe so,” Jisung grins. “Why are you here all alone and not with your boyfriend then?”

It’s Changbin’s turn to grimace. “We had a fight.”

“Ah, shit man. That sucks.”

“Not really?” Changbin says sheepishly. “That sounds bad, but like, we fight about nothing all the damn time and nothing ever comes of it. It was just a little worse than usual today. I needed some time to cool off.”

“Gotcha.”

He doesn’t. Jisung can’t even imagine having a boyfriend, let alone a relationship secure enough that a big fight isn’t even a big deal.

Maybe his sigh is a little too loud because Changbin’s suddenly narrowing his eyes a little too analytically for Jisung’s taste.

“What’s that for?”

“I don’t know, just,” he stalls, “must be nice, having a relationship that strong.”

“Ah,” Changbin nods. “I see. Yeah, it is nice. But I’m guessing that’s why _you’re _here. Not because of a relationship, but rather the lack of one.”

“Got it in one, my dude,” Jisung says, cheering a little. “I –”

“No, don’t tell me,” Changbin interrupts, “I wanna see if I can guess your story.”

“Sure, go right ahead.”

Jisung watches as Changbin swivels in his seat to face him straight on, peering into his eyes a little too closely. He’s really not sure he’s liking what Changbin seems to be finding there.

“Got it. So, you had a bad breakup six, maybe eight, months ago, and while you’ve been over it for a good while, there’s been no since hint at romance in your life and you’re succumbing to the woes of singledom while cursing the name of your ex-boyfriend.”

Changbin’s barely done before Jisung’s bent over the bar laughing, pushing his beer away for good measure before he accidentally spills it. Because, Changbin is _priceless_.

“What?” Changbin pouts. “Was I right?”

“Not at all, you’re a terrible detective” Jisung gasps. “But I do admit, that would make for a very dramatic story. Excellent backstory for the me who mistakenly hits on random people in bars.”

“Whatever, I tried,” Changbin sneers, but Jisung can see the little grin he’s trying to hide behind his rapidly emptying glass. “Want to tell me the real story, then?”

“Sure.”

Jisung wonders where this story begins. There’s no definite starting point, really, just an overwhelming feeling of loneliness that hits his heart a little too strongly on occasion.

“You know, just the whole being single for years deal, watching all your friends be happy in relationships, not wanting to die alone. On a slightly extreme scale.”

Changbin hums. “I get you.”

Jisung raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, no you’re right. I don’t. My boyfriend and I, we’ve been dating since like, high school. But I know what you mean about loneliness. It’s a bitch.”

“Isn’t it just,” Jisung sighs. “I’m not even that cut up about being single _right now_, it’s more the fact that I’m worried I’ll just never find love, or at least a long-term relationship, and it’s sad. And it just kinda hit me in the face today.”

“And why’s that, then? What happened today, of all days?”

Jisung whines. “God this is so cliché. Like _the most_ cliché.”

“Doesn’t matter, man,” Changbin laughs, “out with it.”

It’s strange, honestly, how he doesn’t even hesitate to tell Changbin, a complete stranger that he met in a dodgy ass bar, exactly what’s going on in his head.

“My best friend got married.”

Jisung says it with the straightest face he can manage, but it doesn’t matter. Changbin _howls_. And it’s only a few seconds before Jisung’s joining in until his sides hurt.

“I thought you were exaggerating,” Changbin gasps, “but that really is so unoriginal.”

“I know, and I absolutely hate it. And it was a fucking beach wedding too. At _sunrise_.”

“Oh my _god_.”

“Yeah,” Jisung says, wiping away a few tears.

“You know,” Changbin muses, “I told Seungmin, my boyfriend, that we’re never having a beach wedding, no matter how much he wants one. Not me for, no sir.”

“I know, right? Too much sand. Stupid Chan and his Australian bullshit. _It makes me feel closer to home blah blah blah_.”

“Oh even worse,” Changbin says, screwing up his nose. “Australians are the devil.”

Jisung snorts. “Legit. Both my best friends are Australian, it’s _chaos_.”

“Yeah, something tells me you’d join right in with that though,” Changbin teases, nudging Jisung’s shoulder a little.

“Rude,” he barks back, but there’s no bite to it. This is something he hasn’t had in a long time – an easy, simple conversation, no expectations, no judgement.

“But it’s the truth, right?”

Jisung sighs. “Fine. Yes. I get into more trouble than I know what to do with. But life’s a bit boring otherwise, right?”

“Yes and no,” Changbin hums. “Not to be mainstream or anything, but you need to find a man.”

“I just need to find anyone,” Jisung says, picking at the edge of the bar where the paint’s starting to chip. “I’m not good on my own. I get too lonely.”

Changbin’s staring at him again, and Jisung doesn’t want to meet his eyes because he knows he’ll just find pity there, it’s all anyone has to offer him these days when he lets even just a little of his soul bare.

But. 

Changbin surprises him.

“You don’t need to be lonely. You have me now.”

Jisung snorts. “_Gee_, thanks Changbin, but that really isn’t what I meant.”

“Yeah, I know, you asshole,” Changbin groans, slapping at his arm a little. “I’m not proposing we run off and have an affair. I think you just need someone in your corner a bit. Someone that’s not caught up in their own relationships to pay you some attention. Because your friends are your substitute, right? But they’re not emotionally available for you right now. Hence, the spiralling today.”

“You know,” Jisung says, pulling his phone out of his pocket and pulling up his contacts, “when I said before that you were a terrible detective, it turns out I was lying. Number. In my phone now.”

“How scandalous, sir,” Changbin gasps, but smirks as he types his number in and then calls himself from Jisung’s phone.

“Shut it. You were the one who volunteered to be my friend.”

“Something which I am rapidly regretting.”

Jisung doesn’t hold himself back from laughing, something that’s rare these days, and he wonders just where Changbin’s been all his life.

“What do you do, anyway?” he asks, taking another sip of beer.

“Music producer,” Changbin says and Jisung chokes.

“No shit? Me too.”

Changbin looks too surprised for Jisung’s tastes. “I wouldn’t have expected that.”

Jisung pouts. “No fair. I’m great at what I do.”

“How come I’ve never heard of you then?” Changbin taunts, and Jisung scowls.

“Because I don’t use my given name for credits, loser. I just go by Han.”

“No way.”

“Way,” Jisung sings, enjoying the shock on Changbin’s face. No one ever expects him to be the mastermind behind some of the highest charting songs of the last few years. “But enough about me. Would I know your work?”

Changbin smirks. “Yeah, I’d think so.”

“Examples?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out yet, honestly. Use that big brain of yours.”

Jisung thinks. It’s hard.

“Wait. Oh hell no. Hell _no_. You’re _that_ Changbin? _Seo _Changbin?”

“Present.”

Jisung hits his head against the bar. Again and again and again.

“God, I hate you so much. You kicked like half my songs off number one.”

“Oh, calm down, you drama queen,” Changbin scoffs, tugging Jisung upright by his hair. “Don’t act like you don’t kick mine off as well.”

“Fine,” Jisung grumbles. “But, oh! My friend who got married, Chan. He’s Chris Bang.”

Jisung hates that Changbin looks so much more impressed than when he found out about Jisung’s career.

“Holy shit. I’ve been trying to collab with him for months but he takes like fifty years to reply to my emails. I honestly think he’s just avoiding me,” Changbin whines.

Jisung chuckles. “Nah, man that’s just Chan. He’s hopeless with time management.”

“Even so.”

“Shit man, idea though,” Jisung says, slapping Changbin across the shoulder. “Let’s collab. The three of us. That would be wild.”

Changbin gives him the biggest side eye and maybe Jisung slaps him again.

“I don’t wanna work with you, your stuff is so mopey.”

“Please, it’s _emotional_. But anyway, if you’ve heard like even three of my songs you know I can write hype shit like you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Changbin sighs. “It would be fun. See if you can set it up and make Chan actually email me back.”

“Yes!” Jisung cheers, calling the bartender over. “Time for some celebratory beer!”

Changbin scoffs. “Nope, you’re getting cut off.”

“Ugh stop being so responsible, Binnie,” Jisung whines, sticking his cheeks out for good measure. “But if you’re cutting me off, let’s bounce.”

“You’re not driving, are you?” Changbin asks, eyeing the way Jisung finishes his beer without restraint.

“Nah, don’t worry. I’ll take a taxi.”

Changbin nods. “Good.”

“Oh, come on, man,” Jisung chuckles, “I am responsible despite the evidence to the contrary. Just not as responsible as you, it may seem.”

Because Changbin hasn’t had another drink since that first cocktail and he’s been resolutely ordering enough water to drown a shark.

“Yeah, I really didn’t come here with the intention to get smashed,” Changbin laughs, standing up and tugging Jisung up with him. “Now, which way are you heading?”

“South side.”

“Good. North siders suck,” Changbin snorts, “now come on, I’m driving you home.”

Once Jisung’s slid into the passenger seat and relaxed against the leather, he lets out a sigh. “Changbin, I take everything back, we should have an affair.”

“And you would be dead if Seungmin heard you say that.”

“Worth a shot,” Jisung teases, turning the heating up. It’s definitely warmer inside the car than it is outside, but the winter’s sticking around in a lingering haze, icy mornings and unyielding breezes pushing beyond the limits of anyone’s patience.

When they arrive at Jisung’s place, they sit in silence for a second, listening to all the things unsaid between them.

Jisung chooses to vocalise them.

“Changbin.”

“Mm?”

Jisung pauses. He’s always been one for risks, but he also really doesn’t want to scare Changbin off.

Fuck it. He doesn’t think Changbin _can _be scared off.

“You ever heard of platonic soulmates?”

“Yeah, what about them?” Changbin asks, illuminated in the softest possible way by the weak streetlights that are actually working for once.

“I think I’ve found mine.”

And with that, Jisung chucks the car door open and sprints to his house, leaving Changbin behind with his car blasting air that was getting just slightly too warm.

He calls out a greeting to Hyunjin when he gets inside, slamming the door shut and sliding down against it to the ground.

Jisung has the strangest feeling his life has just taken a turn for the better, and if the racing of his heart isn’t anything to go by, maybe the indignant, but undoubtedly fond text from Changbin that lights up his phone is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Binsung rise


	2. Seungmin

Seungmin takes his time when he goes to the supermarket. Sure, he likes to be meticulous and make sure that he has everything he could possibly need stocked in his pantry, but it’s also just because Changbin is a little bitch who can’t write neatly when it comes to the shopping list.

“Is that _coffee_ or _cookies_,” he grouses, cursing himself for leaving his glasses at home. It certainly looks like it says cookies, but he can’t quite get his head around that, considering he hasn’t bought cookies in a good year, not since Changbin accidentally developed a startlingly strong sweet tooth and destroyed a packet in five minutes.

The sugar high was not something either of them would like to see again anytime soon.

So he makes his way to the end of the aisle, dunks Changbin’s favourite coffee into the trolley and leaves his own favourite sitting sadly on the shelf.

_The things you do for love_.

By the time he’s done, there’s one checkout free, and Seungmin thanks whoever’s decided to bless him today. But. Just as he’s steering his trolley in the right direction, it runs straight into another. There’s a dude there, pouting stupidly as he tries to weasel his trolley in front of Seungmin’s.

“Sorry, bro,” he says, “didn’t mean to run into you.”

Seungmin opens his mouth to say _no, they’re not bros_, and in that second, the guy’s gone and pushed his trolley in front and is already unloading his fifty thousand packets of steak onto the conveyer belt.

Seungmin fumes.

He fumes throughout the unloading of the dairy, he fumes throughout the bread. Most of all, he fumes throughout the unloading of the very same beautifully orange persimmons that Seungmin had left on the shelves, because _budgeting is important_.

When the guy finally finishes paying (he’s one of those idiots that hold up the line by making a split payment and using _all _of his loose coins), Seungmin rushes through his own checkout, determined to catch him and have a little word.

It helps that Seungmin doesn’t have much in his trolley, what with the lack of persimmons, so he’s out of the supermarket and making it into the carpark just as the guy’s loading the last bag into his boot.

And it really couldn’t get any worse, because of course, _of course_, the guy drives a flipping Prius.

But fortunately, it is parked right next to Seungmin’s much more practical Corolla.

“Oi. Prius.”

The guy spins, nearly dropping the four cartons of eggs he’s loading into the trunk.

“What the shit, man, you nearly gave me a heart attack?!”

“Yeah, whatever,” Seungmin says, “moving on. You totally cut in front of me earlier in the line. That’s not cool.”

The guy blinks. “No,” he says slowly, “I was there first. I apologised to you for running into your cart, and then I went and paid for my shopping.”

“_Ahead of me_. I was there first.”

Seungmin’s trying really hard not to get pissed off, but there’s something about the cocky way this guy’s fringe falls that sets him right on edge. It kinda reminds him of Changbin when they first met and he was still an asshole.

“Look, snowflake,” the guy starts in what might be the most patronising tone ever, “you were there first, I was there first, it doesn’t matter. We’ve both paid for our shopping and now we can get the hell out of this dingy carpark, so _please_. Back off.”

“When hell freezes over,” Seungmin bites back.

He just raises an eyebrow. “It’s January in Seoul. I’m pretty sure it’s already frozen.”

And with that, he gets into his motherfucking Prius and hoons out of the carpark like there’s no tomorrow.

Seungmin fumes all the way home. Changbin still isn’t back by the time he gets in, so he sulks as he puts the groceries away, checking the clock worriedly every few minutes.

Just as he’s sending a pouty yet passive aggressive text to Changbin asking why the hell his mopey time is taking longer than usual, the door opens. His boyfriend is in the kitchen in no time, wrapping Seungmin in a tight hug.

“Hey Minnie,” he murmurs, tickling under his ribs a little. “I love you.”

“I know,” Seungmin hums, “I love you too, bitch.”

Changbin stomps on his foot. “We were having a moment! God, why are you like this?”

“I just am, now what have you been moping about for like three hours longer than usual?”

Changbin hums. “I made a friend.”

Goddamn it. While Seungmin loves how hot his boyfriend his, he also hates the amount of attention it gets him when he’s not around. Sure, he’s might be a little jealous, but he’s also just worried about how uncomfortable Changbin gets when random people come onto him. 

“I swear to god, Binnie, if more drunk people have been hitting on you-”

“No, no, nothing like that- well actually he did try to hit on me at first, but don’t worry, he’s harmless.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“There was this dude at the bar and he was really hecking mopey, like more than me, which is saying something. So I thought I’d try to chat to him, maybe cheer him up. He tried to hit on me, but I shut him down.”

Seungmin just hums, turning away to put the kettle on.

“Oh my god, the tea, really?” Changbin laughs. “Don’t worry, it’s not bad. He’s actually really nice. Name’s Jisung. I actually think we’re going to be friends, Minnie.”

“You got his number?”

“Yeah.”

Seungmin eyes Changbin, the quiet hope in his eyes and the little bounce as he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“You really like him, don’t you?”

Changbin _beams_. “God, Minnie, I wanna be his friend so bad. We just kinda clicked, you know? And then he called me his platonic soulmate.”

Seungmin can’t help but abandon the kettle to cross the kitchen and hug Changbin again.

“That’s great, baby. You should text him soon, then. Hang out again.”

“I already have,” Changbin says, blushing a little and hiding his face in Seungmin’s neck. “I feel like I’m in preschool again, oh my god. But he’s just so _cool_. Wait no, he’s a dork. But a cool dork!”

“The best kind,” Seungmin says, rubbing Changbin’s back. It’s rare that he gets so excited about meeting new people, often content to just hole himself up at home and work, living off isolation and Seungmin until he turns brittle to the rest of the world. “I’m proud of you.”

“I’m proud of myself too,” Changbin murmurs, “I needed this, I think. And he needed it too, he’s so sad, Minnie, I just wanna be there for him.”

“And you can be! Keep texting him. Just like, do make sure he isn’t a creep at some stage.”

Changbin rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Trust me, he’s harmless. If you’d seen him, you would not be worried at all.”

“Just making sure, okay? Now come on, let’s drink our tea, the water’s gonna get cold.”

Changbin stays latched onto Seungmin as he pours the water out and steeps the tea, stroking along his ribs and tracing the constellation tattoo beneath his t-shirt.

-

The next week, Changbin’s ecstatic as he gets ready to meet Jisung at the bar. Seungmin watches from their bed, smiling behind his book as Changbin debates between shirts.

“You weren’t even this excited before our first date, baby,” he laughs, enjoying watching Changbin squirm.

“I wasn’t this nervous either,” Changbin glares, chucking both shirts back into the cupboard and pulling out a completely different one instead.

“Wow,” Seungmin says, raising an eyebrow, “should I be worried?”

Changbin scoffs, dropping the shirt to come over and flop on top of Seungmin.

“I wasn’t nervous about our first date because I knew we were meant to be. I loved you then, Minnie and I still love you now. I’ve never needed to be nervous with you.”

Seungmin sighs, enjoying the weight of Changbin on top of him. He curls his fingers into his belt loops and pulls him closer.

“Love you too, Binnie.”

Changbin giggles. “Great, now that we’ve established that, I have a bromance date to get ready for.”

“That’s disgusting, please never say that again.”

“Too late!”

Seungmin sighs, but he doesn’t mind it really, just like he doesn’t mind doing the grocery shopping on a Saturday night when his boyfriend’s out at a bar. Anything that makes Changbin this happy makes him happy.

“Hurry up and I’ll drop you off on the way to the supermarket.”

“Angel,” Changbin murmurs, pressing a kiss to Seungmin’s cheek.

“Yeah, yeah. Now put a shirt on.”

They finally make it out the door, waylaid for a few minutes by Seungmin pressing Changbin against the wall to kiss the hell out of him for looking so damn good when his own boyfriend doesn’t even get to appreciate it.

When he drops him off at the bar, he gets a glimpse of Jisung as he smothers Changbin with a hug just before they walk inside. It’s reassuring really, that Changbin feels close enough with Jisung already to let him wrap him up with affection like that.

And it means that Seungmin can go to the supermarket with a lighter heart, queueing Day6’s greatest hits before he starts driving, letting himself be buoyed by love and music. Sometimes, he hates how soft Changbin makes him.

He doesn’t like going out into public when he’s like this; it’s too unnerving feeling this vulnerable around strangers. He needs his game face.

And it turns out that that’s particularly true for today, because the same asshole from last week is right there looking at the persimmons as Seungmin walks into the supermarket.

Seungmin can’t help but grit his teeth. Changbin had commented earlier about just how much he’d been missing persimmon, and Seungmin agreed – so there they sit on their shopping list, right at the top.

His mood is too good to lose, so he bites his tongue as he pushes his trolley over, carefully examining a few fruits the find the best of the bunch. He’s tossing it up between one that feels just nearly ripe and one that’s unbearably beautifully orange when there’s a snort from beside him.

“Fascinating, aren’t they?”

The guy’s voice is mocking and Seungmin’s ready to give him hell like there’s no tomorrow, but then he turns around and sees him with two persimmons in his own hands, squinting at them concentration rivalling Seungmin’s own.

It tugs at his already soft heart, and Seungmin can’t help but let his anger fade. His posture slumps along with it, and there he is, leaning on his trolley for dear life and letting out a little laugh.

“I guess so,” he hums, smiling just a bit to let the guy know that his intentions are no longer hostile. “It’s always a bit risky at this time of the season.”

“It is getting a little late, but I just can’t go past persimmon.”

Seungmin can’t remember why he’d ever hated this guy. But he can’t resist.

“I’m surprised to see that you have a redeeming quality.”

The guy looks so affronted that Seungmin can barely keep a straight face.

“Forgive me if I’d thought we’d be past last week’s debacle. I, for one, am ready to move on and share all my tips about choosing the best persimmon,” he says. There’s an eyebrow raised and Seungmin’s starting to get a feel for this guy’s push and pull personality. It’s a little intriguing honestly, and not something he’s ever seen pushed to such an extreme before.

“Well, I for one wouldn’t be averse to learning such tips.”

The guy grins and Seungmin can’t do anything to stop the smile pulling at his own lips.

“There’s just one thing I ask for in exchange,” he says, smile morphing into more of a smirk. “A name.”

Easy enough.

“Seungmin.”

“And I’m Minho.”

And that’s that.


	3. Minho

The day Minho meets Jisung, he genuinely considers moving to Alaska.

It’s not because of the annoying way he gets all up in his personal spaceor even the way that Minho’s left with a broken foot, but all because of how damn _cute_ he is.

“Dude, I really am like so so, so so so so so, so sorry,” Jisung mumbles, frantically glancing between Minho’s face and his foot. Which just minutes prior had been getting crushed under the wheel of Jisung’s Vespa.

“I told you, it’s fine,” Minho says tightly, not missing the way Jisung flinches at his tone. “No, don’t worry, I’m not mad at you. Just at the situation. I won’t be able to work for a while, that’s all.”

“That’s _all_?” Jisung practically screams. “I just ruined your entire life! Your livelihood! And it’s _fine_?!”

He nearly coos at how riled up the guy is getting, hair in disarray as he frantically paces around. Minho just watches from where he sits on the ground and holds back a giggle.

“I’ve had injuries way worse than this, I’ll be better in no time,” Minho says, reaching up and tugging Jisung down. “Come sit. You’re stressing me out with all that pacing”

“Right. Sorry. So what is your job anyway?”

“I’m a dance teacher.”

Jisung seems to have a wide range of emotions about this. First is shock, then a look of awe, followed by a quick scan of Minho’s body, finally settling on distraught.

“You’re a _dance teacher_ and I just ran over your _foot_.”

Minho shrugs. “Bones heal.”

“But my heart won’t,” Jisung pouts and Minho wants to applaud because Jisung’s just given him the perfect opening.

“Maybe I can do something about that. Give me your number.”

“Why?” Jisung frowns. “Insurance shit?”

“No, you idiot,” Minho sighs, because _really_. “I’m asking you out.”

“_What?_”

“Really, Jisung please, how hard is it to understand–”

“But, my _Vespa_ and your _foot_.”

“So what? You’re cute, I wanna take you out. Just give me your number.”

If Minho thought Jisung was cute when he was stumbling around in a distressed rage, that’s nothing compared to the way he blushes up to the tips of his ears.

“Oh. Well sure, I guess.”

Minho makes sure to grin as widely as he can as he passes Jisung his phone, adding in a wink for good measure. It does the trick – Jisung blushes even more, if that’s even possible, as he resolutely ignores Minho for the few seconds it takes him to program in his number.

“There. Done.”

“Thank you, Jisungie.”

He just about cries as Jisung tries not to melt at the nickname. _Cute_. _Real damn hecking cute_. But then again, it could just be the pain finally getting to him.

“_You’dbettertextmeorelse._”

Minho blinks.

“What was that?”

“Please text me. Don’t just leave me hanging. You’re really handsome and I ran over your foot and god this is such a strange day, but yeah. Text me.”

Jisung looks a little embarrassed at his outburst, playing with his hoodie strings and glancing up at Minho from underneath his fringe.

Minho chuckles. “Don’t worry, I’ll text you when I get home from the hospital.”

Jisung flinches at the mention of the hospital, but Minho’s got no time to do anything about that, because just then the ambulance pulls up and Jisung’s springing up, taking control and talking to the paramedics so Minho doesn’t have to.

_Cute_.

The pain really starts to hit when they move him into the ambulance, and he tries to hold it back until they’ve said goodbye to Jisung and Minho’s sent him off with a wink and a finger heart.

One of the paramedics smiles at him. “Boyfriend?”

“Maybe,” is all Minho says with a laugh, before it turns into a groan and he’s screwing his eyes shut in pain.

“Here, take some painkillers,” the paramedic says, pressing some pills and a bottle of water into his hands. “I’m surprised you could handle the pain so well.”

Minho shrugs. “I burnt my arm on some stage lights last year. That hurt way worse.”

The paramedic snorts. “You get so many repeat offenders in ambulances.”

“Guilty.”

The sit in silence after that, and Minho feels the painkillers kicking in, making him more than a little drowsy.

“Good god, what did you give me? This shit’s _strong_.”

“Sorry about that. We want you nice and unfeeling when we have to move you again at the hospital. It does make some people pass out, just so you know.”

“Yeah, I think I got that,” Minho murmurs, blinking as much as he can. Which isn’t much.

It’s all he can do to keep his head upright before his eyes betray him and slip shut.

-

“Minho.”

It’s reproachful, the voice, and Minho curses not being able to pretend he’s knocked out from the drugs any longer.

“Innie, I was hoping you’d be my doctor.”

Jeongin doesn’t seem so happy about this turn of events.

“You broke your foot, you idiot. I thought I’d made it perfectly clear that I never wanted to see you at work.”

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault. This dude ran me over with his Vespa.”

Jeongin sighs. “Only you, Minho. Anyway, it’s not that bad of a fracture, standard six weeks, you know the drill. Absolutely no dancing, I don’t want to have to tell you twice.”

“Yes, mum,” Minho sighs, rolling his eyes, but he secretly makes a note to take Jeongin out for dinner the next time they both have a free evening. Jeongin’s looking more than a little run down and Minho knows that overworking runs rampant in their family. “Are you taking care of yourself, though? You look like shit.”

Jeongin snorts. “Gee, thanks. You’re just as kind as usual.”

“Look, what kind of brother would I be if I lied to you?”

“A nice one. Now, more drugs for you. And get some sleep.”

“Gosh, you’re no fun,” Minho sighs, but he waves as Jeongin leaves, smiling a little when he hesitates at the door. “Go! I’m fine, Innie, you know I am.”

Minho’s sure it’s a good thing that he misses whatever it is that Jeongin mutters as he finally leaves, but nonetheless, his smile doesn’t dim as he takes out his phone. It’s out of charge, which he really shouldn’t be surprised about, but Jeongin’s stuck his sticker covered charger in the outlet next to Minho’s bed and he mentally sends out a hug to his brother as he plugs it into his phone.

There’s already some messages built up from while he’d been out, namely from Seungmin bemoaning various things that Changbin’s done that are _simply idiotic_ as he likes to put it, but also a few from Hyunjin that Minho grins at. Jeongin must’ve rung the studio for him.

But they can wait. They can all wait a thousand years if they have to, because Minho has a cute boy to text.

He wonders for a few minutes, what the best method to make Jisung squeal with is, but then he decides that anything would probably make that guy squeal, so he sends off a message without thinking too hard about it.

** _ Heya this is Minho have you ever done drugs_ **

He sends a selfie for good measure, just to let Jisung know that he’s not actually asking about his personal relationship with narcotics but is actually just lowkey high on painkillers and enjoying the pleasant buzz and the way it’s lowered his social inhibitions to apparently nothing.

Jisung responds immediately, and Minho thinks it’s a good sign that he sends his own selfie back – this one’s backlit to the point of destruction and Minho can barely make out his face amongst all the light. Maybe he would’ve done better if he was clear-headed. But either way, all he can see is a mop of hair, and it hits Minho what beautiful hair it is.

He barely skims Jisung’s message (a _not personally but does second hand inhalation count_) before sending him back a few hearts and a little outburst about his hair. 

** _ Wow that’s some floofy hair right there can I pat it I think I’ll pat it do you like pats_ **

When Jisung replies – it takes a while this time – Minho’s drifting again and the sane part of his brain that’s not at all in control hates himself for squealing when that’s clearly Jisung’s job here.

_ No patting until you take me out _

Curse cute boys who can out confident gay Minho. But he never goes down without a fight.

** _ That can be arranged_ **

He leaves it at that, locking his phone and putting it back on the table. He can read Jisung’s reply when he’s more level headed and in control.

Besides, he’s already got a date locked in.

-

Said date gets arranged the next afternoon. Minho’s in his kitchen, eyeing the unfortunately large distance between the counter he’s currently leaning against and the crutches he’d left in the living room.

Sometimes his pride really gets the best of him. But either way, he decides it’s the perfect time to text Jisung.

** _ So I’m currently eyeing my crutches and my thoroughly broken foot and I’m thinking I’m owed some compensation_ **

_ Is that so? _

Minho grins.

** _ Most definitely so. Time and place, darling, I’ve got all the free time in the world now that my foot’s broken_ **

It takes Jisung a while to reply and Minho’s got a feeling it’s got more than a little to do with the d-word he dropped. But he doesn’t mind the wait; if anything, it’s cute that Jisung’s panicked side is coming back out.

_ Sunday, two o’clock?_

_ **I’m free**_

_ Great, I’ll pick you up_

Minho snorts.

_ **With what, you Vespa riding idiot? **_

_ I do have a car you know_

_ **Then why the fuck do you go around running over people’s feet with Vespas???? **_

_ Well I mean look at us now are you really complaining_

Minho really can’t argue with that so he sends back a sticker and tosses his phone halfway across his apartment to his sofa.

He misses.

-

Jisung’s car, it turns out, is extraordinarily nice, and either Jisung is really as broke as he looks or he’s _really not _as broke as he looks.

“I have to ask,” Minho starts, knowing that it’s not really that polite to ask, but he figures he has a free reign. Broken foot and all. “But again, why bother with the Vespa when you have a car like _this_?”

Jisung blushes. _Cute_. “Well I mean, I’ve had this car for a while, but I always wanted a Vespa when I was younger. And one day I realised that there was no reason why I couldn’t get one, so I just did.”

“I see,” Minho hums, running his hand along the soft leather of the seat.

“I probably won’t be riding it much anymore though, that’s kind of ruined for me now,” Jisung says softly, huffing out a laugh as he flicks the indicator on with a little too much force.

“Ah shit,” Minho says, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” Jisung says, glancing between Minho and the road in a way that makes Minho realise exactly how Jisung was able to run over his foot when he was going at all of two kilometres an hour. “It’s not your fault. And besides, I think I got something a little better than a Vespa out of it, don’t you think?”

It’s Minho’s turn to blush and he _really_ has to restrain himself from reaching over to slap Jisung’s arm. He doesn’t want some other poor soul to get run over by Jisung and his seemingly terrible attention span.

“Shush.”

“Don’t _shush_ me, who do you think you are?”

Minho just _loves _how Jisung just keeps dropping perfect openings for him.

“Well I think that’s a discussion for after the date, hmm?”

Jisung splutters and nearly crashes the car.

Minho’s still got it.

They end up at a café that Minho’s never been to before, mainly due to the fact that it’s on the second level of a cute pastel painted building and he’s _lazy_.

“Jisung,” he starts, glancing at the stairs, “I’m not sure if you’d noticed, but you did run over my foot the other day.”

Jisung frowns. “Of course I noticed, what are you talking about– _oh_. The stairs. Don’t worry, there’s a lift at the back.”

Minho smiles in relief, letting Jisung rest a hand on his back as they slowly make their way around to the lift. It’s only once they’re inside that Jisung speaks again.

“Did you really think I’d be that stupid and take you somewhere that you’d have such a hard time getting to?”

He’s looking down at the floor, scuffing his feet along the beat-up vinyl, adding new marks to the endless layers already imprinted from years of use.

“Of course not,” Minho sighs. “I was just teasing you.”

And then smiley Jisung is back. “Thought so!”

Minho’s by no means old, but there’s something about Jisung and his energy that makes him feel young again, if he can just keep up with him.

He’s always liked a challenge.

He lets Jisung choose a table by the window, and Minho appreciates the stillness of the view as Jisung wanders off gets them drinks. He comes back with two mugs and a slice of cake and Minho smiles as he struggles to set it all down.

“Close call?”

Jisung whines. “I had it perfectly balanced. It was just a matter of getting _out_ of that balance.”

“I can imagine you wouldn’t have much trouble getting out of things,” Minho observes, taking a sip of his coffee.

“I’m not even gonna ask,” Jisung sighs.

“It’s never a bad thing to have game.”

“Moving _on_,” Jisung says firmly, eyeing Minho over his coffee cup in a way that sets panic bells ringing like mad. “Tell me Minho. Do you think my hair’s looking sufficiently _floofy _today?”

Minho groans. “Shut up, I was high.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jisung shoots back, “you still said it. You really, _really_ want to pat it, don’t you?”

“You know, I think I liked you better when you were a mess that couldn’t deal with my flirting,” Minho sighs, leaning on his palm. “I might just have to cancel this date.”

Jisung laughs. Minho’s entranced.

“Oh please. You’re far less overwhelming now that I’ve seen you off your mind on painkillers.”

Minho scowls, but it’s really only to hide his smile. He’s _glad _that Jisung’s seeing past his exterior and quick wit and doesn’t seem to care that he’s found a bit of a dork underneath all of that.

“One day I’ll get you sufficiently intoxicated via your drug of choice and then we’ll see who’s laughing.”

Jisung winces a little. “Well you’re gonna dealing with a caffeine high Jisung then, and I gotta warn you, he’s a bit of a bitch.”

“As opposed to...?”

It takes Jisung a second, but when he gets what Minho’s implying he pouts without restraint, all droopy eyes and cute lips.

“No, my mistake, you’re the bitch here.”

“Never denied it,” Minho says with a wink, and it sets Jisung off laughing again and Minho has the strangest hankering to record it and set it as his alarm. No bad day could start with that laugh. He sighs. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re unbearably endearing, Jisung?”

“Maybe a few people,” Jisung says, getting more and more red the longer Minho stares at him.

They call it a day when they realise their coffee’s gotten cold in all the time they spent staring at each other across the table. Minho lets Jisung guide him again, enjoying the feel of his palm pressed against the small of his back.

He drives Minho both home and up the wall, what with his obnoxious off-key singing to all the infernal songs that come on the shitty radio station he’s chosen as his one and only. But occasionally Minho gets a glimpse of what could actually be talent underneath all that screeching, peeking through when Jisung gets too caught up in actually paying attention to the road to remember to force the atrocity.

When they pull up outside Minho’s apartment he’s sad to leave Jisung behind, but he also can’t wait to text Seungmin about every little thing he’s learnt about Jisung.

That’s gonna have to wait though, because Jisung is determined to walk Minho to his door, spouting rubbish about how people with broken feet can’t be trusted to get into a lift and hobble to their own apartment.

Absolute rubbish.

Absolute rubbish that melts Minho’s heart.

When they get there, Minho unlocks the door slowly, lingering a little as he wonders how best to phrase what’s on his mind. Jisung beats him to it.

“So,” Jisung starts, absentmindedly tapping the door frame. “Who are you thinking I am, Mr Lee?”

Minho smirks. “Hmm, I’m not sure. I think I need more evidence.”

Jisung huffs a little, but can’t hide his laugh and the delight in his eyes. “I guess I can agree to that. I’ll text you when I get home.”

“You do that,” Minho agrees, before reaching out and grabbing Jisung’s collar. He pulls him in, mouth by his ear. “But I have it on good authority that someone may have a boyfriend very soon.” 

Jisung tenses a little as Minho whispers to him, but when he pulls away he’s grinning like there’s no tomorrow, blush spreading cutely across his cheeks that Minho can’t help but pinch a little.

“See you, Sungie.”

Jisung sends him finger guns with a little click, just as Minho’s shutting the door, and he really hopes that Jisung was able to hear his snort.

He knows Jisung said he’d text him later, but Minho can’t resist pulling out his phone once he makes it to the sofa.

_ **Finger guns, really? You’re a dork, Han**_

** ** _But you love it, Lee_

And maybe Minho does.


	4. Changbin

Changbin’s been waiting to drop the bomb on Seungmin for the whole day. He didn’t want to just text him about it, this is _top quality news_, so it had to wait until they were both at home for Changbin to spill the beans. But.

When Seungmin got home he wasted no time in dragging Changbin into the bedroom complaining about how much he’d missed him and his stupid face, and it’s safe to say that Changbin was sufficiently distracted to forget everything that had been on his mind.

It’s only when they’re in the kitchen cooking eggs for dinner because it’s too late to bother with anything else, that Changbin remembers.

“Oh, Minnie, I didn’t tell you. Jisung got a boyfriend.”

“What?” Seungmin says, looking mildly affronted.

“Jisung has a boyfriend now. Hopefully he won’t be so mopey anymore,” Changbin laughs, putting the toast on.

“Damnit!”

“What? Did you burn the eggs?”

“No,” Seungmin sighs, “I just wanted to set him up with Minho. I think they could’ve been cute.”

Changbin comes over, stretches up onto his toes so he can rest his chin on Seungmin’s shoulder. It digs in, and Seungmin turns his head to hide his wince from Changbin.

“It’s okay. I’m sure he’s plenty cute with whoever this guy is. And Minho will find someone else to be cute with.”

“Yeah. Just imagine the double dates we could’ve had.”

“Damn,” Changbin curses, “that would have been wild.”

“_Exactly_.”

Changbin can admit that it’s something he would’ve liked too, the collision of their two sadly single friends that are stupid in all the same ways.

“Well how about this. Wait for Minho to get a boyfriend, then we can _triple_ date. Even wilder.”

Seungmin beams. “You’re a genius.”

“I try.”

“And you do it so well,” Seungmin laughs, wrapping his arms around Changbin a little too tightly. So naturally, Changbin can’t help but drop the real kicker onto Seungmin.

“Jisung’s boyfriend though…”

“What about him?”

“His name’s Minho too.”

“Changbin,” Seungmin says tightly, setting the spatula down onto the bench. “Get out of the kitchen before I punch you.”

“Steady,” Changbin sings, “don’t get feisty now.”

But he’s already dashing out of the kitchen, leaving a fuming Seungmin behind.

“I just wanted cute double dates! Is that too much to ask for?!”

Changbin doesn’t think so, but it seems the universe does.

Either way, he’ll leave Seungmin and his eggs be for the time being.

The time being, it seems, only lasts until just after dinner.

“Changbin get your ass in here _now_!” Seungmin shouts from the living room, and Changbin sighs before dropping the frying pan back into the sink and meandering in at the slowest pace he can manage.

“You called?”

Seungmin scowls and Changbin feels his heart skip a beat. Some things never change.

“Guess who just texted me?”

“Minho?”

“Yeah. Bitch has gotten a boyfriend,” Seungmin says, looking far too mischievous.

Changbin raises an eyebrow. “Well that’s great. Triple dating can happen sooner.”

“No, get this. His boyfriend’s name is _Jisung_.” 

“Oh no _way,_” Changbin cackles, “I love the world sometimes, I really do.”

“I know right,” Seungmin says, sighing contentedly. “My prayers were answered.”

“Ooh, God likes you today,” Changbin coos, tickling under Seungmin’s chin.

Seungmin bats him away. “Get away from me, you ass.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Changbin drawls. “Anyway, how do we wanna do this? I’ll text Jisung? Or do you wanna ask Minho?”

Seungmin tilts his head, considering the options, and Changbin lets him think in silence, knowing that Seungmin’s gonna come up with the best way to direct their subtle espionage.

“How about this,” he starts slowly, pulling Changbin down onto the couch and dumping his feet into his lap. “You text Jisung and I text Minho. You ask, I’ll just let him know that you’re asking. And then, Minho can tell Jisung if he wants to. But I doubt he will.”

“Really?” Changbin snorts, thinking of how much he’d rather not keep secrets from Seungmin.

“He’s as much of a bitch as we are,” Seungmin mutters, burrowing down deeper into the pillows. 

Changbin considers. “Okay, fair. Let’s get this show on the road.”

He types out a message to Jisung, getting Seungmin to check to make sure there’s nothing suspicious and it sounds exactly like normal Changbin speak. 

“Alright, perfect,” Seungmin sighs once they’ve sent it. “And now we wait.”

They don’t have to wait long, because Jisung sends back his extremely eager agreement in absolutely no time at all, professing his love for Changbin and his genius ideas.

“If only he knew who the real genius was,” Seungmin mutters, aggressively hugging a cushion. “I’m the brains of this relationship.” 

“Yes sweetie,” Changbin says, ignoring Seungmin’s pouting in favour of replying to Jisung.

It gets him hit in the side with the cushion, but that’s just one more he can add to his stack at his end of the couch. Seungmin pouts a little when he realises he surrendered his last pillow to Changbin’s mountain, but he just pokes his tongue out and sighs as he reclines back into a lovely layer of pillow.

-

“Date day! Date day!” Seungmin’s singing as he waits for his toast to cook, tapping the butter knife against the counter in an intriguing beat. Changbin hides in the doorway with his phone out and recording. He’ll be damned if Seungmin ever finds out that he’s going to use his absentminded date beat in an actual song. 

“Pipe down, Mozart, and eat your toast already,” he calls once his phone is safely back in his pocket. “I don’t wanna be late.”

“Excuse me,” Seungmin snorts, “when have I ever been known to be late?”

“There’s a first time for everything,” is all Changbin mutters before booking it out of the kitchen to go put his shoes on. 

He manages to herd Seungmin out the door just a minute shy of when they’d planned to leave, and Changbin considers it a success.

When they finally get to the address that Jisung sent them (which they were under strict instructionsto not look up), Seungmin just about loses his shit.

“Changbin, love of my life? Tell me, why do you have such atrocious taste in friends? And _why_ are we at goddamn mini golf?”

“You’ll have to ask Jisung that,” he dodges, parking the car in double time and hopping out before Seungmin can ask again.

Jisung and Minho are already waiting for them inside. Seungmin sighs and Changbin’s right behind him.

“I’d forgotten Minho’s foot was broken,” Seungmin mutters and Changbin snorts.

“So again,” Changbin muses, “why are we playing mini golf?”

Jisung wastes no time in attaching himself to Changbin, bounding across the room and latching on. He starts blathering aimlessly in Changbin’s ear, but that doesn’t mean he misses what Seungmin’s saying to Minho.

“Minho, your foot’s broken.”

Minho tilts his head. “What about it?”

“What about it? You know what, never mind. Let’s just get this over with.”

“You’re just in denial that my boyfriend’s cuter, Seungmin. I told you, and look. Evidence.”

Jisung squeals a little, so softly that only Changbin hears, but he prances on over and drapes himself across Minho’s shoulders.

“You think I’m cute?”

Minho snorts. “Please. You know you’re cute.”

“True,” Jisung nods, but then his mind finally gets past his own good looks and to what Cangbin’s been waiting for. “Wait. This is _your _Seungmin? Changbin’s Seungmin is _your _Seungmin? And Minho’s Seungmin is _your _Seungmin. And you’re _their_ Seungmin.” 

He spouts this out at a million miles an hour, gaze darting between the three of them. He lets go of Minho to go hang onto Seungmin instead, giggling about coincidences and fate.

Minho slides up next to Changbin. “You didn’t tell him?”

“Nope,” Changbin smirks, “and by the looks of it, you didn’t either.”

Minho spurts out a little laugh. “How could I?”

And he’s right. Jisung’s bouncing around in a way that reminds them all how _Jisung _and _ridiculous_ are practically synonymous, but they wouldn’t have it any other way. Even Seungmin agrees, from the way he’s hiding a grin behind a mask of vague annoyance.

“Jisung, I have a question,” Seungmin starts, head tilting in the way that means a storm’s coming.

“Shoot.”

Seungmin snorts. “Don’t tempt me. But tell me this. Why the _fuck _are we playing mini golf?”

Jisung blinks, obviously confused, and Changbin tries to hold back his laugh when he sees Minho basically cooing over his boyfriend.

“Everyone always goes to mini golf on double dates! It’s in all the movies.”

“I’ve literally never seen that before, but okay,” Seungmin says, rolling his eyes. “Lead the way.”

And Jisung does. He skips across the grass over to the first hole, and the rest of them trail behind him like little ducklings. Changbin watches Minho closely; any sign of discontent and he’s jumping on it faster than Minho can hobble his way out of trouble.

But Minho just rolls his eyes with a fond smirk before schooling his face back into its perpetual mask of indifference. And Changbin’s satisfied with that. He doesn’t want to take Minho out to the carpark and have words, but for Jisung, he’d do anything. But luckily enough, Minho isn’t a dipshit and Changbin doesn’t have to resort to any drastic measures.

(When he’d mentioned that thought, Seungmin had snorted and let Changbin carry on with his delusions of formidability.)

Surprisingly, Jisung absolutely smashes them all on the first hole. Changbin’s sure that Minho botched his shot on purpose, but then again that might just be a side effect of using a crutch as a golf club. 

“Take that, suckers!” Jisung crows, legs crossed, leaning on his club. “See if you can beat me, I dare you.”

Changbin snickers. “This is why you wanted to play mini golf, isn’t it? You’re secretly a master.”

Jisung shrugs. “Maybe.”

Changbin can tell that Seugmin’s fuming, barely holding onto his marbles as he makes a supreme effort to hold his tongue.

“You sneaky little bitch,” Minho laughs. “Just know that I’d be winning if I was fully functioning.”

Personally, Changbin’s having the time of his life, watching Jisung obliterate all of them at every hole, seeing Minho fall a little deeper with every winning shot and Seungmin slowly stop grinding his teeth in frustration.

By the end of it, Jisung’s won by a landslide and Minho’s looking at him with a glint in his eyes that Changbin’s not unfamiliar with, but does not want to see in the context of his friends ever. 

“Well that was fun,” Changbin says.

“Rather,” Seungmin agrees, “but we’ll be going now, I think, before Minho decides to jump Jisung in broad daylight.”

Changbin snorts, “Yep, that. See y’all.”

Jisung splutters. “Don’t talk rubbish, guys. Minho, tell them.”

Minho just shrugs and Jisung blushes. “Sorry Sung.”

“And on that note,” Seungmin mutters, grabbing Changbin’s hand and dragging him towards the car. “Goodbye.” 

“See ya, Sungie,” Changbin calls over his shoulder. “Text me later!”

“Will do,” Jisung shouts back, sending Changbin a salute before helping Minho over to his car. 

“You had fun, didn’t you?” Changbin asks as soon as they’re in the car, doors locked, sending one last wave to Jisung and Minho.

“Yes,” Seungmin mutters. “Turns out mini golf is strangely enjoyable.” 

“And you didn’t even win! This is character development!” 

“Oh shut up, Changbin.”

Changbin does shut up, but he also takes a hand off the wheel so he can reach over and hold Seungmin’s. 

-

The next time Changbin finds himself at the bar, it’s after an SOS text from Jisung, spouting some nonsense about how he’s feeling like the low-quality coasters, which Changbin has to say, are looking more low-quality than usual.

“Changbin, it’s throwback Thursday. My best friend got married today.”

“What? Chan and Woojin got married ages ago. And even more importantly, who gets married on a _Thursday_?”

“No, the other one. Felix,” Jisung sighs. “They _eloped_. Because it’s romantic or something.”

“Gross,” Changbin says, “you can’t trust anyone who pulls shit like that.”

“I know, right? I thought Felix was at least a _little_ sensible, but apparently not.”

Changbin takes another sip of his whiskey, contemplating. “Jisung,” he starts, and his tone is serious enough that Jisung glances over, brow furrowed. “If you ever elope, I’m disowning you.”

He really should have expected to be whacked with the bar menu.

“Goddamn it, Changbin, of course I’m not gonna elope. I’m making Minho go the whole nine yards,” Jisung says, nodding to himself.

Changbin can see the ten-year plan Jisung’s made for himself lined up behind his eyes (and in the messages sitting in both their phones) but he can’t resist teasing a little.

“Minho, huh? Thinking about marriage already?”

Jisung blushes. “Well, yeah. When you know, you just _know_, you know?”

“Sure,” is all he says, spinning a coaster further along the bar. It’s slowly getting more and more damp, edges soaking up lost condensation that’s peeling the paper with no restraint. “Sung, I want to propose to Seungmin.”

“Oh, _Binnie_,” Jisung squeals, launching himself off his stool and at Changbin. “Please do. In fact, do it tomorrow. Just in time for a June wedding, you can get it planned a few months.”

“Whoah, Sungie,” Changbin laughs, pushing Jisung back. “I’m not in a hurry, he’s not going anywhere. But I am thinking of doing it soon.”

Jisung nods. “You’ve got a ring then?”

“Yeah,” Changbin mumbles, fidgeting with his own ring finger.

Jisung doesn’t miss it, and reaches out to still his hands.

“Bin. Look at me,” he says, voice impossibly soft in the way it gets only when he’s being completely serious. 

Changbin looks up.

“You’ve got absolutely nothing to worry about, so stop overthinking everything, alright? I know what you’re doing in that stupid big smart brain of yours, and there’s absolutely no need.”

Jisung’s eyeing him a little too closely, hand resting reassuringly on his knee. But it helps Changbin finally take a breath that makes it to his lungs, reaching down to squeeze Jisung’s hand in his own.

“There we go,” Jisung laughs. “Now, let’s get you another drink.”

Another drink turns into five, and Changbin’s feeling it when they finally stumble out the door. It’s late; the moon glistening off the last drops of winter rain freezing on the footpaths. Changbin’s glad that Jisung’s driving tonight, what with the way the moonlight spins before his eyes.

It hits him, as they climb into Jisung’s car, how lucky he is. Tipping his head back, he rests against the seat, reaching a hand out to grab Jisung’s in his own.

“Sungie.”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, man.”

Changbin’s losing coherence rapidly, he’s always been a sleepy drunk, but he can just make out how Jisung replies in kind through his laughter.

Before he slips completely, he feels himself smile.

It’s surrounded him from all sides, and he’s just caught in the middle of the loop.

He’s never felt so loved.


End file.
